Well, that was most certainly a book!
I’m vaguely aware of the general idea of the Arabian Nights–a woman is threatened with death and staves it off by telling such an amazing story each night… And then always leaving them wanting more.
Except apparently within the stories, there are more story tellers. I think it got at least 4-5 layers deep before I noticed.
And… never returned to the frame story? Weird that.
In any case, the individual stories are fun enough, even if some get more than a bit questionable and/or gruesome. But I enjoyed them. I wonder how much of that is the stories and how much this particular translation.
Individual stories:
The Story of the Merchant and the Genius
A story so interesting it buys a night… and another story (or three) therein.
Oh it’s complicated.
The Story of the First Old Man and of the Hind
Sacrificing a former person turned cow. But of course.
The Story of the Second Old Man and the Two Black Dogs
The smart brother giving all the chances to his siblings. Wifey fairy is not having that.
The Story of the Fisherman
A genius fished up… with only a single wish. The manner of death!
And another story deeper we go.
The Story of the Greek King and the Physician Douban
A magical cure and an evil vizir… only to have another story to tell him.
The Story of the Husband and the Parrot
Thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening.
So short.
The Story of the Vizer Who Was Punished
So that was two different nested stories then back to a level only to go off to a mysterious palace and a man stuck in a block of marble… I suppose his story is next!
the story of the Young King of the Black Isles
A woman scorned. And tricked. And a journey home.
the story of the three calendars, five sons of kings, and of five ladies of Baghdad
Another set up for another nested story.
Man, if someone hosting you gives rules… you listen or leave. Or at least ask first.
But I suppose then we wouldn’t have a story.
The story of the first calendar son of a king
Turns out when kings are overthrown, family is next.
And when someone swears you to secret so they might descend into an otherwise unoccupied tomb? Well that’s not a good sign.
Life lessons.
The story of the second calendar son of a king
A Prince who learned to write… and then a random underground palace of course with a genius. Bunch of those about. Or perhaps the same one over and over again.
The story of the envious man and him who was envied
Now when I had ended my story, I proceeded to show the genius how to apply it to himself. “O genius,” I said, “you see that this Sultan was not content with merely forgiving the envious man for the attempt on his life; he heaped rewards and riches upon him.”
And then there was a crazy shape shifting battle and a death in flames. An exiting one!
The story of the third calendar son of a king
Another long tale and another prince that just cannot resist even for a day doing what he was told not to… over and over again.
I did enjoy the last of the mount of adamant, which pulls all the metal nails from any boat which draws too near!
The seven voyages of Sinbad the sailor
“Consider, Mighty Creator of all things, the differences between Sindbad’s life and mine. Every day I suffer a thousand hardships and misfortunes, and have hard work to get even enough bad barley bread to keep myself and my family alive, while the lucky Sindbad spends money right and left and lives upon the fat of teh land! What has he done tha you should give him this pleasant life–what have I done to deserve so hard a fate?”
First voyage
A whale of a tale–or an island? And Sinband thought dead, only to have to prove he is himself!
Are we still deep within the first womans’s name tales?
second voyage
Another great roc, large enough to carry off a rhinoceros and elephant at the same time
And diamonds… collected by way of giant eagles and lumps of meat.
Weird.
Third voyage
Once again abandoned and on an island, this time full of man eating giants!
Escape? Man eating snakes!
Escape again… only to become even more wealthy.
Whatever shall happen in his next voyage?
Fourth voyage
A captive of circumstances, twice more! First by cannibals and then by a kingdom rich and willing to share with Sindbad.
But captive nevertheless.
My favorite of his so far.
Fifth voyage
More rocs!
And… an old man who latched onto your shoulders and won’t let go. Of all the problems to run into…
Sixth voyage
Nevertheless, by the time I had buried the last of my companions my stock of provisions was so small that I hardly though I should live long enough to dig my own grave, which I set about doing, while I regretted bitterly the roving disposition which was always bringing me into such straits, and thought longingly of all the comfort and luxury that I had left. But luckily for me the fancy took em to stand once more beside the river where it plunged out of sight in the depths of the cavern, and as I did so an idea struck me. This river which hid itself underground doubtless emerged again at some distant spot.
Seventh and final voyage
The caliph says go on a journey… so of course sold one more into slavery.
“Well, my friend, and what do you think now? Have you ever heard of anyone who has suffered more, or had more narrow escapes than I have? Is it not just that I should now enjoy a life of ease and tranquility?”
The Little Hunchback
A hunchback, a tailor, a Jew, a Muslim, and a Christian…
Make up one crazy story of compounding mistakes.
And lead to even more nested tales. Apparently.
The story of the barber’s fifth brother
Sudden windfall! Lost.
Another! Lost again.
Murder! Revenge! Repayment! Lost again.
Bit of whiplash that.
Why did we start at the fifth again?
the story of the barber’s sixth brother
An imaginary feast, an all too real reward… and a bit of fishbone.
Such a chaotic book.
The Adventures of Prince Camaralzaman and the Princess Badoura
The gardener informed Camaralzaman that they were quite a year’s land journey to any Mahomedan country, but that there was a much shorter route by sea to the Ebony Island, from whence the Isles of the Children of Khaledan could be easily reached, and that a ship sailed once a year for the Ebony Island by which he might get so far as his very home.
So how were they getting there?
King Armanos heard the princess with surprise and admiration, then, turning to Camaralzaman, he said, “My son, as your wife, the Princess Badoura (whom I have hitherto looked on as my son-in-law), consents to share your hand and affections with my daughter, I have only to ask if this marriage is agreeable to you, and if you will consent to accept the crown which the Princess Badoura deserves to wear all her life, but which she prefers to resign for love of you?”
I see.
Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp
For two days Aladdin remained in the dark, crying and lamenting. At last he clasped his hands in prayer, and in so doing rubbed the ring, which the magician had forgotten to take from him. Immediately an enormous and frightful genie rose out of the earth, saying: “What wouldst thou with me? I am the Slave of the Ring, and will obey thee in all things.”
There were two?!
Aladdin replied: “The Sultan, as thou knowest, has broken his promise to me, and the vizir’s son is to have the princess. My command is that to-night you bring hither the bride and bridegroom.” “Master, I obey,” said the genie. Aladdin then went to his chamber, where, sure enough at midnight the genie transported the bed containing the vizir’s son and the princess. “Take this new-married man,” he said, “and put him outside in the cold, and return at daybreak.” Whereupon the genie took the vizir’s son out of bed, leaving Aladdin with the princess. “Fear nothing,” Aladdin said to her; “you are my wife, promised to me by your unjust father, and no harm shall come to you.” The princess was too frightened to speak, and passed the most miserable night of her life, while Aladdin lay down beside her and slept soundly. At the appointed hour the genie fetched in the shivering bridegroom, laid him in his place, and transported the bed back to the palace.
Not quite the story I’m familiar with.
The Adventures of Haroun-al-Raschid, Caliph of Bagdad
Baba-Abdalla,” returned the Caliph, “your way of asking alms yesterday seemed to me so strange, that I almost commanded you then and there to cease from causing such a public scandal. But I have sent for you to inquire what was your motive in making such a curious vow. When I know the reason I shall be able to judge whether you can be permitted to continue to practise it, for I cannot help thinking that it sets a very bad example to others. Tell me therefore the whole truth, and conceal nothing.
The Story of the Blind Baba-Abdalla
At this news I became almost beside myself with joy and greed, and I flung my arms round the neck of the dervish, exclaiming: “Good dervish, I see plainly that the riches of this world are nothing to you, therefore of what use is the knowledge of this treasure to you? Alone and on foot, you could carry away a mere handful. But tell me where it is, and I will load my eighty camels with it, and give you one of them as a token of my gratitude.”
Always wanting more.
But, Commander of the Faithful, there is a proverb that says, “the more one has, the more one wants.” So it was with me.
I feel like that’s the moral of many of these stories.
The Story of Sidi-Nouman
The same thing occurred at supper, and all through the next day, whenever we ate together. It was quite clear that no woman could live upon two or three breadcrumbs and a few grains of rice, and I determined to find out how and when she got food.
Just let enough be enough already!
It was bright moonlight, so I easily managed to keep her in sight, till she entered a cemetery not far from the house. There I hid myself under the shadow of the wall, and crouched down cautiously; and hardly was I concealed, when I saw my wife approaching in company with a ghoul—one of those demons which, as your Highness is aware, wander about the country making their lairs in deserted buildings and springing out upon unwary travellers whose flesh they eat. If no live being goes their way, they then betake themselves to the cemeteries, and feed upon the dead bodies.
Well that got dark quickly.
Then sprinkling it over me she said, “If you were born dog, remain dog; but if you were born man, by virtue of this water resume your proper form.” In one moment the spell was broken. The dog’s shape vanished as if it had never been, and it was a man who stood before her.
Magic!
The Story of Ali Cogia, Merchant of Bagdad
Ali Cogia fetched his vase and carried it to his room at the inn, where he opened it. He thrust down his hand but could feel no money; still he was persuaded it must be there. So he got some plates and vessels from his travelling kit and emptied out the olives. To no purpose. The gold was not there. The poor man was dumb with horror, then, lifting up his hands, he exclaimed, “Can my old friend really have committed such a crime?” In great haste he went back to the house of the merchant. “My friend,” he cried, “you will be astonished to see me again, but I can find nowhere in this vase a thousand pieces of gold that I placed in the bottom under the olives. Perhaps you may have taken a loan of them for your business purposes; if that is so you are most welcome. I will only ask you to give me a receipt, and you can pay the money at your leisure.”
See, that’s entirely reasonable, but we all know that’s not how it will remain.
Going down one street, the Caliph’s attention was attracted by a noise, and looking through a door which opened into a court he perceived ten or twelve children, playing in the moonlight. He hid himself in a dark corner, and watched them. “Let us play at being the Cadi,” said the brightest and quickest of them all; “I will be the Cadi. Bring before me Ali Cogia, and the merchant who robbed him of the thousand pieces of gold.”
The Enchanted Horse
Well then,” continued the prince, “you can easily understand how the King my father, who has a passion for all curious things, was seized with a violent desire to possess this horse, and asked the Indian what sum he would take for it. “The man’s answer was absolutely absurd, as you will agree, when I tell you that it was nothing less than the hand of the princess my sister; but though all the bystanders laughed and mocked, and I was beside myself with rage, I saw to my despair that my father could not make up his mind to treat the insolent proposal as it deserved. I tried to argue with him, but in vain. He only begged me to examine the horse with a view (as I quite understood) of making me more sensible of its value.
All about wanting things.
The Story of Two Sisters Who Were Jealous of Their Younger Sister
So familiar. I think I read part of this one in the Pink Fairy Book.
He is changed into a black stone,” answered the dervish, “like all the rest who have gone on the same errand, and you will become one likewise if you are not more careful in following my directions.”
That’d be the one I’m familiar with. And yet, it’s slightly different?
As far as I can see,” said the princess, “the first thing is not to mind the tumult of the voices that follow you till you reach the cage, and then never to look behind. As to this, I think I have enough self-control to look straight before me; but as it is quite possible that I might be frightened by the voices, as even the boldest men have been, I will stop up my ears with cotton, so that, let them make as much noise as they like, I shall hear nothing.” “Madam,” cried the dervish, “out of all the number who have asked me the way to the mountain, you are the first who has ever suggested such a means of escaping the danger! It is possible that you may succeed, but all the same, the risk is great.” “
Quite a longer story in the end.